American Cartoons
by ReeReeWithAngst
Summary: In which Jemma is in labor and the Agents have to keep Fitz calm and not dead on his feet while they all wait for the birth of the FitzSimmons baby.


**It wouldn't be fair to have a wedding fic and not have their first child get his own fic as well. Just like in my last FitzSimmons fanfiction, the name was picked by accident (just like Fitz' part in the play) but I feel like it fits. Or rather, Fitz.**

* * *

If he could have wrung his hands any harder he would have.

The pacing was getting to everyone and he was the only one who was supposed to be agitated.

The husband is supposed to be in there but _she_ had made it very clear his nervousness and negativity would do her no good, it was hard enough as is.

He paced.

Coulson was the first.

"Fitz, you need to sit down. You're going to wear yourself out and Jemma could be in labor all night."

"I'll drink coffee." The Scotsman muttered.

"You hate coffee."

"I'll drink it." He insisted. The pacing persisted.

Around one AM Daisy tried.

"Fitz calm down." He looked at her, his blue eyes flashing with worry.

"Do you think she and I discussed names enough?"

"As long as it's not Mary Lou Poots I don't care." They were all tired. He was just jittery.

The pacing persisted.

Another half hour passed, magazines were read and traded, as well as gossip. Then Mack attempted.

"Come on Turbo, you're obviously tired."

"I'm not tired!" He yelled, exhausted and having an inner tantrum like a two year old. Mack, also exhausted, didn't bother arguing.

It can't be said that Coulson didn't try again, and Bobbi and Lance, late to the catastrophic event also made their best efforts.

It was May though.

In her usual May fashion.

Not saying anything.

Just taking him by the shoulder and shoving him into the nearest waiting room chair.

When he was down he was down, and he probably would have sprung back up, had someone not forced a iPad into his shaking hands, loaded up with a movie, The Good Dinosaur, to be exact.

He was captivated.

He kept looking up at his friends with a quirky, confused smile, saying, over and over again,

"Guys, I think the science for this is _all_ wrong." He examined and re-examined.

By four in the morning he was mostly just giggling, with a few tears here and there and in between. And he had rewatched the movie as many times as his sanity would let him.

"Mr. Leopold Fitz? Your wife and son are ready to see you." A doctor said, coming out and scanning the room for the new father. He stood up, shocked, dropping and breaking the iPad, _Lance's_ iPad, in the process.

"I paid 374.75 pounds for that..." Lance grumbled.

"Hush!" Bobbi scolded as Fitz moved toward the door in a daze. A son? They'd expected a daughter, though had gone gender neutral for the nursery and baby shower.

"Warranty just expired..." Lance continued to complain.

What was the name they had chosen for a boy? His mind was blank, he couldn't focus. Arlo? No, that was The Good Dinosaur... Why was a movie that was so scientifically wrong so emotionally and aesthetically right?

"Jemma?" He asked as he pushed into the room, not knowing what to expect. The handsome little devil he saw had his hair and her facial features, and was beaming up at the world.

What had they discussed?

He recalled Will coming up in conversation as a name choice for a boy, but he had... Opposed that, quite a bit.

Perhaps not as much as they had both opposed the option Daisy for a girl, though he wouldn't have minded had they chosen Skye.

Lincoln had been mentioned, and Triplett favored...

But what had been chosen?

Jemma looked radiant, though more exhausted than any of the agents on the other side of the wall could possibly be.

"Fitz-" The entire world seemed to be in her eyes as she looked up at him with a sort of tired wonder.

"He's ours." She tells him, and he doesn't quite believe him. How could something so perfect belong to people so broken? But he doesn't see brokenness when he looks at her, only stars.

"I wanna redo the nursery." He mumbles, though it had been done for months and was gorgeously and intricately decorated with constellations brighter than a thousand suns.

"What?! No it's perfect Fitz!" She seemed to clutch the little boy tighter- oh what was his name?- in her obvious frustration.

"I wanna make it disney!" He whined. They both needed sleep.

"No." Firm and stern Jemma was back, not that he minded, though he always missed her smile when that version of her was around.

"Fine."

"Do you want to hold your son?"

They had definitely picked out a name.

It couldn't possibly be Phillip could it?

The idea had been bounced around. He frowned for a second.

"What's wrong?" The moody and spent new mother asked, frowning also, and seemingly causing their child to do the same.

"I can't remember what we decided on as a name..." He murmured, taking the boy from his mother's arms.

"Doesn't matter." She mumbled.

"I gave him a name we never discussed." Then she smiled, looking at father and son, so fit together, like what would perhaps be the final piece of their puzzle had come together to tie everything up.

"Oh?" He asked, too sleepy and disoriented, and madly in love with the joy in his arms, to mind that she'd made the choice on her own.

"Yes. Introducing Cameron Leopold FitzSimmons." There'd been no way, at the wedding, that they could steal what they were, what they always had been, by having her take his name or his hers. So they'd stayed FitzSimmons, only now that's what it said on IDs. And that's what it would say on Cameron's. He brightened.

"I love it." He did. He loved everything about it. Not particularly the name, a Scottish one meaning "crooked nose" but the fact that the baby was theirs and was beautiful, and alive.

With the broken lives they'd lived, he had feared, until hearing his son breathe for the first time, and holding the swaddled, curly headed bundle of perfection now, that their child wouldn't make it out of the womb. His own mother had miscarried before he was born, and he wouldn't wish the fate on anyone, particularly not his beloved Jemma.

"He's going to be very special," He started to tell Jemma, but she had drifted off into a well deserved slumber. He pulled up a chair, using his foot to pull it, and settled down with his son.

In truth, he didn't sleep at all that night.

And anyone who peeked in could hear Leopold Fitz telling the kiddo the entire plot of Good Dinosaur.


End file.
